At ten o'clock that night, Coastline Avenue.
This was a popular racing spot, and as soon as night fell, racing enthusiasts gathered here.
Annabelle sat in a discreet black Mercedes sedan by the roadside, looking towards the starting point of the racetrack.
The car engine roared, deafeningly loud, as the obnoxious high-pitched music stimulated her eardrums. There were also those excessively excited men and women, some screaming loudly, while others engaged in passionate and explicit kissing.
The darkness covered those hidden actions and transactions, and also magnified their desires infinitely.
Annabelle raised the car window, shutting out the outside noise, and rubbed her temples with a headache.
She didn't want to come, but this confrontation ultimately started because of her.
And
